A matter of time
by samanddianefan10
Summary: Reba lives a simple life...the kids are grown, she's not needed anymore, she's free to be herself. Just as she makes peace with her new life guess who shows up at her doorstep?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For reba-brockfan. I hope you like this. This is my first Reba story. Enjoy!**

It was her birthday, and she was sitting at home alone. The kids were grown and didn't need her anymore, as they were off to college. Brock and Barbra Jean had divorced years ago, not that it really affected Reba that much. She was just thankful to have some peace and quiet in her life. She lived a simple life, and for that she was grateful. She could enjoy her hobbies, keep her house in order, and go to bed at six o'clock should she so choose. It was a simple life, but it was hers, and for that she was grateful.

There was a knock at the door, and she hollered for the visitor to go away. Reba didn't know who it was, nor did she care. She just was lounging around in her pajama pants and an old sweatshirt and really didn't need any visitors. But still, the caller persisted.

Finally she got up and answered, and to her surprise it was her long lost ex-husband, Brock. Last she'd heard of him he'd moved to another state to try to rebuild his life after Barbara Jean had left him. She looked at him in surprise.

"what do you want?" Reba asked bluntly.

"You don't think I'd forget, do you?"

"Forget what, your sense of direction? Last I heard Idaho was that way..." she pointed.

"Forget Idaho. Forget everything. Let's just forget about the past. I came because I remembered. I know what today is, and I brought you a little something."

Shocked, she looked down and saw a little jewelry box. It had better not be what she thought it was.

"Brock I don't need your gifts, I don't need your company, and most of all I don't need you. You'd think a couple of divorces would teach you what the whole concept means."

"Please, Reba, don't be that way. I only ask that you hear me out. If you don't like it than send me on my way. I only bought a one way ticket here, but that doesn't matter. I got here, I can find my way home. But actually..."

"But what Brock? Aren't we a little past the buts? Especially with Barbra Jean and her big butt out of the way?"

He smiled. He always loved how feisty she was. "I think I have found my way home."

"Brock have you been in an accident lately? Bumped your head, by any chance?"

"It's you, Reba. You're home. You've always been home. It's just taken me the long road to find out where I belong."

She stormed away and grabbed the first thing she could find to throw at him. Luckily for Brock, it was only a pillow. "How dare you? You find out the grass isn't greener on the other side and now you come crawling back like a dog in heat? You have some nerve!"

He knew he deserved that, and much worse. "I'm so sorry, Reba. For everything. I never meant to hurt you. But I was selfish, and I hurt you, and worse, I destroyed my family. I want you to know if I could take it all back and do it all again, I would in a heartbeat."

"Well that's all fine and good, but what about Barbra Jean? Did you give her this same speech and have her turn you away? Is that why you're here? Because you want me to play second fiddle yet again?"

"It's always been you, Reba." Brock pulled her brazenly close to him. "It's always about you."

"The kids have moved on. Barbra Jean's moved on. I think it's time we do the same."

"Forget Barbra Jean. She didn't leave me. I left her."

Reba stared at him in shock.

"Why?"

"Because of the other woman."

"Still can't keep it in your pants, can you?" Reba shook her head.

"It's you. You're the other woman. It's always been you. In fact, you're the only woman I want to spend my life with. If you turn me away I can't blame you, but don't you want to take a chance? That's what love is, that's what life is. A chance. A gamble. I know you've always been the sensible one, but don't you want to follow your heart?"

She wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.

"I know you're not ready, but when you are, here's my number. Call me sometime." Brock grinned as he slipped her his number.

As she watched him leave she knew he would be back. He had always been back. He was right. This time it wasn't about the kids or Barbra Jean. It was about them, it always had been. It would take some time but she knew what her heart wanted. And this time she wasn't afraid anymore. She'd already survived some of the worst things to happen to a woman. Brock was older, she certainly wasn't getting any younger. Who knew what the future held?

She opened the box and found a locket. She opened it and discovered a photo, an old one, of her and Brock when they were dating. She smiled. After all, men might lie, and they did, but the heart didn't lie, and this time, she knew where her heart lay. It wouldn't be easy, but she was never one to walk the easy road. It was going to happen, it was all just a matter of time.

The end


	2. Fancy was her name

**A/n this was originally planned as a one shot but thanks to some wonderful reviewers who still see a little life in it, I will continue at least for a few more chapters. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting.**

Reba looked at the locket, long after Brock had left. He'd left her many times before- she was no stranger to the back of his head- but this time something had changed. She had changed. No longer recognizing the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach when she saw him, Reba realized that things were different. Maybe he was different. If you would have told her five years ago that she thought Brock was capable of changing, she would have said you'd dipped into her granny's apple gin one too many times.

But seeing as the kids were grown and having developed a life of her own maybe she was seeing him through fresh eyes.

And she wasn't sure she liked the feeling.

It was a week later before she heard from Brock again. Rather, she bumped into him at the supermarket, kind of reminding her of early days in their courtship. Reba smiled first, then Brock laughed, and pretty soon it was like old times. True, he had a little more gray in his hair, she'd refused to go gray, but pretty much time had been good to the both of them. More specifically, Reba couldn't help but notice just how kind time had been to Brock. It wasn't fair. She used at least four different creams and ran on the treadmill and ate salads every day, but for Brock- the aging process had apparently been effortless.

"Fancy running into you here," Reba smiled nervously as she tossed the fresh tomato she'd picked out in between her hands. Brock stopped her.

"You don't have to be nervous, Reba. It's me. It's still the same me that you've always known."

"Are you? Are you really? Are you the Brock who promised to stand by my side for the rest of my life, or are you the Brock who got his head turned by an empty headed bubble butt woman? Or are you the father of my kids who moved away to Idaho just because life got hard?" Reba couldn't help herself. He may have looked good but she knew better than anyone else that looks could be deceiving.

"It's me, Reba. The father of your kids. The man who always will love you. The man who gave you his heart twenty something years ago and now has come back to reclaim his gal."

She shook her head." Don't do this to me. Don't you dare! How easy it would be for me to fall for your sweet talking, but my mama taught me better than to fall off a turnip truck twice. I fell for your lines before. I was a kid. But now look at me. I'm a grandmother. I'm in my twilight years. Can't you leave well enough alone?"

He now took the tomato from her hands and instead put his hands around hers. "Look at me. Reba, do you think I would have came this far, given up everything I had just to chase a teenage dream? I don't want no teenage dream, I want you. The real you. Yes I see the little traces of gray in your hair that I know you don't want anyone to see. I see the little wrinkles around your eyes. I see you, Reba. And I swear I love you more today than I ever have."

She bit her lip to keep from tearing up. He wasn't worth her tears, not this time anyhow. "And I see you, Brock. I see you as the same old hound dog who leaves when life gets a little hard or when a pretty young thing turns your head. I'd be a fool to take you back. Now I think I best be on my way."

Reba proudly walked away, leaving behind her cart and a very confused ex-husband.

tbc


	3. He stopped loving her today

**A/N As always this is dedicated to one of the finest writers of her craft, Reba-Brockfan.**

Going home from a short but eventful day, Reba was glad when her feet hit the couch and she put her hands behind her head to rest. Of all people who should she run into but her ex-husband? Of course it was Brock that she'd seen, when she'd been in such a hurry to get the day's errands done that she ran out of the house without brushing her teeth.

She liked her home, she liked her life. Why would she complicate things by taking Brock back now? It had taken her a long time, a long life of patience, self-control and independence to get to where she was at now. So to bring Brock back into her life now made no sense whatsoever. What was she thinking even entertaining the thought.

But it was Brock she was thinking about. Brock- the father of her kids, the co-grandparent to her grandbabies, the one time love of her life. But he was also the dirty louse who cheated on her and left her for another woman. What woman in their right mind would give him the time of day, let alone debate taking him back?

There was no debate. It was out of the question. How would she explain to her friends, her family, her kids that she'd taken back a lousy cheat? More importantly, how could she live with herself?

She hadn't always looked in the mirror and liked what she had seen. After being put through the wringer with Brock and Barbra Jean there were times where she was filled with self-doubt. And Reba knew herself well enough to know that she didn't like the woman that she had become at that time, the woman they turned her into. All of a sudden she was the bad guy with her kids because she didn't want their daddy around. She had to put up with Barbra Jean for so long, and to finally be rid of her was quite the freeing feeling. This was about her and Brock and what he'd put her through.

Barbra Jean. It turned out that ghosts of the past had a way of reappearing when you least expected them to. How she had hated that woman with a passion. So why was she feeling sorry for her, for Brock had done to her exactly what he'd done to Reba. The other woman, the mistress, the woman who stole her man did nothing, absolutely nothing to deserve sympathy.

But she didn't know what to do. She had a heart, even though she hid it well. Reba was old enough to know not to wear her heart on her sleeve anymore, and sympathy for the enemy was not a feeling she could afford to spare.

Why did she even care what happened to Barbra Jean? She was out of the kids' lives, she was no longer any of Reba's concern. So why could she identify with the feeling of being the other woman?

Reba laughed. Her, the other woman, when she had done absolutely nothing to justify that role? That was laughable. Typical Brock. Pitting woman against woman, thinking only of himself in the process.

So she turned on some old country music, some old George Jones, and let her thoughts fleet where they may.

As it turned out, her thoughts turned to Brock.

TBC


End file.
